


Wandering Far

by PeoniesPlease



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Critical Role OC, F/F, F/M, Gen, Look ya'll its my kids, muh babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeoniesPlease/pseuds/PeoniesPlease
Summary: Three months after the passing of the Tempest, The Champion navigates her new world and the responsibilities and surprises that come with it. Balancing her heart with her station, she must learn the duty of a living Champion while she and her family hunt her oldest enemy.
Relationships: Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Wandering Far

Aniah pulled the blanket back over her eyes as she woke, squinting against the light as it cut through the windows. 

She squinted at Ben under the blanket, his face slack with sleep. His arms were thrown over his head, the long lean limbs slack. She squinted against the light as she crawled up and draped the blanket over him, his warm smile gracing his handsome face as he blinked awake. She hummed in satisfaction as he reached for her automatically, and she laid on his chest as his arms settled securely across her narrow back. 

She tucked her head into his neck, careful to angle her horns away from his face. His long fingers spread over her skin with warmth and she sighed into him, settling her full weight against his lean body as he groaned into her white hair as it spilled across his face. 

“Good morning love,” He murmured, his sleepy hands drawing patterns on her skin. 

She hummed and kissed his neck, smiling at the shiver that went through him. 

“Good morning. We should get moving,” She said softly, smiling as he grumbled and pulled her closer. 

She patted his bare shoulder and smiled, squinting into the light as her pale eyes adjusted. Still early, not far after dawn. She tugged on her clothes and armor, pulling the straps on her bracers tight. Ben watched with fond eyes as she tied her hair into a low tail before taking the three long, perfect feathers, tied securely with thin leather to a silver hair comb. She tucked it behind her right ear, brushing along the perfect pinions. 

Bellat went at her left, the slight weight of the rapier comforting. She picked up the dagger, turning it in her hands as she watched it catch the sparse light. She tucked it deftly at her right, the Vestige humming with power at her hip. At last she took her shawl, shaking out the long grey cloth before tying it around her, secured with a long silver pin. She sighed as the shawl bloomed with warmth, and she bent at the waist to kiss Ben’s warm forehead, chuckling as he pulled the blanket back over himself.

“I’m going to see Cala. Take your time - but please get up.” She said gently, smiling as he glared at her with mock irritation. 

“Anything for you, darling,” He said, his smooth voice muffled under the blanket as she laughed and turned, slipping out of the cottage and into the cool Zephrah air. 

She wandered the woods, letting the cool air soothe her mind as she woke slowly. Spring was in late bloom, small white flowers and clusters of mushrooms carpeting the pine-strewn soil. She let the smell fill her nose as she walked, the warming wind tugging at her hair. Time passed easily, the only sounds the soft cawing of the birds and the distant rising of the village. 

Her feet carried her to the cliffs, and she sighed as she wrapped her arms around herself, grateful for the warmth of the shawl. Three months had past, three months since the Matron had anointed her. Since she had seen  _ him _ \- Vax'ildan, power roiling from his form as he looked on her with an easy grin. 

And Keyleth, gripping at him, her face so desperately joyful that it still hurt to remember. She had run as fast as her feet could carry her, the Matron’s words soft in her ear as she slammed into Cala’s room, hauling the half-hungover druid to her feet as she led her to the cliffs. 

_ Her time is run out, my Champion. They will leave - soon.  _

Cala had lurched to her feet, eyes growing wide as she saw the panic in her face, her loose braids falling down her shoulders as she gripped her hand and ran with her to the cliffs. Aniah had pushed her tears down, turning to look at the terrified face of her oldest friend as they arrived at the edge of the trees. Cala had let out a keen as they saw the body, falling into Aniah’s waiting arms as she wailed against her chest. 

Aniah held her tightly, pressing a kiss to her hair as she tucked her chin on top of her head. She felt her heart clench with wonder and awe as she watched Keyleth and Vax’ildan, their arms wrapped around each other as they looked on her with pride. 

She was...stunning.

Just as tall as before, but her spine straight and unbent. Her long red hair framed a narrow face, full red lips and bright, damp green eyes beneath arched brows. Vax gave her a gentle smile, his posture relaxed. His skin was bronze next to Keyleth’s pale, freckle strewn flesh, his strong hands holding her securely. They looked like every painting, every tapestry she had ever seen. Young and beautiful, easy power flowing from their kind smiles. 

They looked like Legends, pulled from a storybook of a long passed Age.

_Because they are,_ she had realized dimly, her heart chelching to stand before them, wearing the same dagger, her sister the same staff. 

She wanted to drink them in, her heart hammering as their shining forms looked on her with what she could only describe as...as  _ gratitude. _

She had forced herself away, returning to the weeping woman in her arms as she took her by the shoulders and led her away, into the safety of her family’s embrace. 

The wind tugged at her hair as the sun broke over the cliffs, and she let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. 

Cala had been inconsolable, for three long days. 

The celebrations had soured as word spread, and condolences poured in from all over the world. Keyleth had done an incredible job of preparing - Aniah was still overwhelmed by the amount of letters and parcels that still arrived daily. Cala had been appointed as the head of her estate -once she had recovered they had begun the work of settling the final affairs. Aniah and the others had spent quiet days in Keyleth’s small home, Isilda helping with weary eyes as they sent each letter and package she had so carefully marked to their destinations. 

There had been one, for Aniah. It was tucked under her pillow, safe and secure. She not had the heart yet to read it.

Her possessions had been few, and what was left after remained in the home. The village had not yet decided what to do with the structure. Cala and Eladriel had set up in her childhood bedroom, Cala’s family happy to host. Aniah and Ben had taken an empty hut, and Gruthak and Terrence had happily done the same. For now it sat empty.

The funeral had been...exhausting. 

Aniah had never met so many people in her life. She had been born to power and influence, but the sheer amount of royalty and leaders that had visited the village was unprecedented. She had liked the De Rolo’s best - Ves’salia was proud and scathing, her face partially covered in thick black lace. Her daughter was charming as well, rolling her eyes at her mother’s antics as she introduced her massive family to Aniah and the rest, her son looking up at Aniah through thick lashes, eyes curious as he clung to his mother. 

Keyleth had been laid to rest with highest honors. Her body was near - they had decided to lay her in the earth, near the cliffs where she passed. The whole thing had taken a week, from people arriving to the massive effort of housing and feeding and entertaining the thronging guests. 

She admired Cala more than she ever thought possible - she had been incredible. Each one, each King or Ambassador or relative wanting to see and speak to the Voice of the Tempest. After three days in her family’s home she had emerged like a butterfly, her eyes dry and her hands steady. Aniah and Eladriel had barely left her side, bracketing her as she laid her hands on the shoulders of weeping dignitaries and De Rolo’s alike, collapsing into the bed after each day. 

Cala had earned her title, navigating her new Council and role as she contended with the grief of herself and of thousands. Aniah sat beside her the day after Keyleth passed, Cala’s eyes still red and puffy as she spoke to her Council, their eyes downcast. They had ended the meeting by enrolling the rest of them into their fold as fellow members of the Zephrah Councul.

A niah wondred absently how many titles she had by now. 

She had laid beside Cala that first night as Elly slept on the other side of the bed. She held her as Cala breathed deeply, her small, strong body curled against hers as she rubbed soothing circles into her shoulders. She broke the silence of Calas soft sniffling as her hands gripped at her enchanted shawl, the warmth calming. Ben slept on the floor near Aniah, as Gruthak and Terrence snored in front of the bed. They had not had the heart to leave her, and Aniah could not deny the heartache that she felt. 

Cala was not the only one that lost a mentor, after all. 

“You know...she didn’t have a choice. She was...she was out of time. The Matron told me herself.” She whispered into the crown of her head, Cala signing into her chest as she burrowed her head beneath her sharp chin. 

“I know. She...she wouldn’t have done that to me, not if she had a choice.” Cala murmured, her clear voice clouded with misery. 

“It just hurts. And it will hurt, for...for the rest of my life,” She whispered, her shaking hands clenching at Aniah’s shirt. 

Aniah had kissed the crown of her head, her small body secure in her embrace as she tucked her chin atop Cala's head. 

"I saw them, Cala. After. The Matron let me, I suppose. She is so happy, Cala. So is he. They are together, and they are so _happy_ ," She whispered, the words carrying in the quiet room. 

She felt Cala nod under her chin, the exhausted druid taking a deep breath as she fought a sob. 

"What did they look like?" She heard her breathe, the words barely above a whisper. 

Aniah closed her eyes, their faces clear before her. 

"Beautiful. She was stunning, like a goddess of the spring. Her hair was long and red, and she was so tall over him. Her eyes were so...so different. Younger. And he was so young. Handsome, like she said. He...they loved each other so much." Aniah managed, giving Cala another squeeze as she sighed in her arms. 

“I know. She...she longed for him so much. For so...for so long. I...never really thought about what it meant. To live so long. But now…”

Cala broke into sobs again, Elly stirring and turning to cup her face with concern. Aniah ran her hands down her back soothingly, Vax’ildan’s dark eyes and Keyleth’s bright smile vivid in her memory. 

“You will not endure it alone. There will always be others there, to love you and carry you,” She said gently, her own heart heavy at the words. 

_ Is it a lie?  _

She still did not know. Vax’ildan and Keyleth had been...vague. She knew in her heart that she would need to ask the Matron herself, and soon. 

She was half Drow - if her life carried on, as it was meant to, she could see three, four hundred years at most. 

Would she serve the Matron as he had, her life pulled into unthinkable lengths? 

He was not a mere soul, though - she knew from the stories and from his appearance. A Revenant, a tool of the Matron. Remaining in her service, for Her reasons as well as his. 

Or would she follow the path set, to die, to leave, to sunder herself from the weary demands of life. 

Cala took a deep breath, her grip tightening as she keened in their arms, Eladriel whispering a high Elvish poem soothingly as Cala pressed against her strong frame. 

_ She knows.  _ Cala knew her thoughts as she always had. 

She would never forget the way her eyes had grown wide the first time they met, her strong brown hand so small in her pale grip. Cala had told her later that she had known they would be friends immediately. Cala always had a way of seeing people that Aniah could never match. 

Aniah could break someone down, pulling them apart by their very foundations to find what she needed. 

But Cala could see hearts and minds, her wise eyes knowing and powerful. She could apply the same pressure, but with a smile and kindess that Aniah still could not fully understand. 

It was a different life then, a life where she and Cala were mere students, children in the warm embrace of Emon. Her path was clearer then, and more clouded all at once. Her strange, smiling roommate, and now, her sister, safe in her arms. Aniah shook her head at the strangeness of it all. The Staff and Whisper lay in the corner, and Aniah shivered as she realized that the Vestiges had been separated for over a thousand years.

Leaving Cala was an impossible thought - leaving any of them was. She would have to decide, she knew - if she even  _ could. _ Something in her heart told her there was a choice, though - the Matron was wise, and kind. She had the haunting suspicion that she would grant her the request if she asked - to walk by Cala always, to enforce the will of the Matron as a living, breathing Champion.

And yet. 

She still could not shake the depth of loneliness in their faces- the desperate longing in Vax’ildan’s pale eyes as he spoke to her in her dream. The way Keyleth looked at the Raven as it perched on her shoulder, her posture relaxing almost immediately. She had felt the air leave her lungs as the Matron had sundered him, the flush returning as his strange flesh healed. Keyleth, her ancient eyes brimming with longing and hope, her bony hands gripping him impossibly tight. 

And Ben. 

Ben, loud and irritating during that first night, his handsome face clever and k7nowing as he teased her in the sewers as they hunted. 

After, following her out of the alley and ducking as she tried to hit him, his brilliant smile stealing her cold heart. He never gave up on her, even when she pushed him away, again and _again._ He could see the same way Cala did, hearts and minds laid open like books. So patient, so sure, his love like a mountain she could not avoid, only scale.

It had taken his death, the strings of fate pulling her impossibly tight until she broke and gave in, letting her destiny claim her fully as she surrendered to his enduring heart. 

_ Would she do the same again? Chain herself to memory for duty, swallow the bitter pill to walk by Cala’s side? _

She shook her head, returning to the moment as she watched the sun break over the cliffs. She pulled a wire from her bag, holding it to her lips. 

“Good morning, Cala. I’ll be there soon,” She said, the message carried away as she turned on her heel and headed for Cala’s home. 

_ “Morning Annie. Mom’s in the kitchen, just come in.” _

Aniah soon pushed into the warm kitchen, Cala’s mother greeting her with a kiss on the cheek and a muffin in her hand. She ate it gratefully - Cala’s mother was the best cook she knew. She padded softly to Cala’s door. She knocked once, and Cala’s dark eyes peered at her as she opened the door and stepped aside - a thick letter in her hands. 

Aniah’s eyes cut through the darkness of her room as she entered, Cala closing the door behind her. Eladriel sat at the edge of the bed, half dressed in a nightshirt and shorts as she gave Aniah a weak wave of greeting. Her golden eyes were tired, and Aniah wondered how well they had both slept that night as she met Cala’s exhausted eyes. 

Eladriel flicked on the lamp beside their bed as Cala silently offered the letter, Aniah gave her a curious glance and took it and, reading aloud as the other women watched. Cala sat on the bed beside Eladriel, their hands entwining. 

“Greetings Cala of Zeperah, Voice of the Tempest,

I have thought of you, and your friends and family often during this difficult time. I wanted to extend my condolences and fellow greif once more - Whitestone has been draped in black. My family and city will be reconvening for the first time since Keyleth’s passing, and we wanted to extend our invitation to you and yours. 

Our city has celebrated the freeing of Whitestone for almost two thousand years. We think it is only right that we choose this day to break from our mourning and celebrate Keyleth and Vox Machina once more. 

I understand if you cannot attend, but I offer you our warmest welcome. We have the room and board for as many as you desire, and would love to meet your family.

We long to keep her memory alive. We hold the festival on the sixth of Druscar, and begin celebrating on the fourth as family and visitors arrive. Please feel free to join us as much as you can. 

Also, we hold a ball every year on the fifth, just after sundown. If you could attend, we would love to honor you in our home. Details will be listed for you in the following leaflets.

All of our love, 

Ves’siah De Rolo, Lady and Keeper of the Council of Whitestone, and member of the Council of Tal’dorei.”

She finished, her voice quiet in the room. 

Cala gave her a weak smile as Eladriel huffed, Aniah raising her eyebrows in curiosity. 

“...Cala, this sounds like something you would dream of.” Aniah said slowly, watching as Elly laughed weakly and elbowed Cala. 

“I know, okay, I know but - should we even go? I’m - I’m the Voice of the Tempest now, I need to... _ be _ here!” She said, throwing her hands in the air as Aniah shook her head and leaned against the wall opposite her. 

“Keyleth traveled. Often. Without a bodyguard, which you do  _ not _ get to do, by the way. That is the duty of the Council, to allow the Tempest to move freely and know when to summon her to defend her home. I am a member of that Council now, Cala. As is Eladriel, Ben, Gruthak, Terr - we are your team. You are not  _ bound _ to this place so severely as that. Do not use that excuse, little wolf,” She said softly, letting Cala’s eyes flash with anger at her words and the old nickname

Cala shifted her shoulders, rolling them as she cracked her neck. 

“Fuck. Fine.  _ Fine, _ ” She hissed, Elly glancing up at Aniah with a beleaguered expression. 

Aniah crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows at her flustered face. 

“We cannot stay here forever, Cala. You know that - we _ talked _ about it. Keyleth’s intent was clear - allow the Tempest to judge where she is needed, and the Council to summon and protect her. This is a good opportunity to build on old connections, and forge new ones. 

And - the De Rolos _ loved _ Keyleth. And they knew her longer - hundreds of years of memories, Cala. What wisdom can you still find in them? What joy? I miss her too, Cala - and him,” She said, her soft voice falling to a whisper as Cala gave her a weak smile, her eyes tight. 

“Always the Ambassador’s daughter,” She murmured, Aniah rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Ja, I can’t help it. We have work to do, Aniah. Our lives have just barely begun.” She responded, Cala giving a short nod as she leaned against Eladriel. 

“You’re right. I know you’re right. And I want to go, I - I _ need _ to go. I just needed to hear it.” Cala said, giving Aniah a wry smile. 

Aniah bounced her narrow shoulders against the wall, wrapping her fingers together and stretching. 

“I know. Besides, the De Rolos are  _ fun, _ Cala. I know I don’t have a good history with parties but - _ even I _ think it would be fun.” 

Cala laughed, shaking her head at her as she scrunched her nose. 

“The world grows ever more strange -  _ Aniah  _ tells  _ me _ to have  _ fun, _ ” She said, rising from the bed to wrap her in a hug. 

She squeezed Cala, grinning at her huff of breath. Cala laughed as she released her, and Aniah could see a spark of the grinning, bright eyed woman she knew. 

“You deserve it. And I’m - honestly getting restless,” She confessed, Cala’s mouth turning in an apologetic smile. 

“I know. I haven’t forgotten. We have demons to murder,” Cala responds, and Aniah laughs weakly as she steps back. 

“We do. And now,” She said, pulling Whisper from her belt and tossing it in the air, catching the glimmering blade as it sung with power. 

She gave Cala a wide grin, glancing at the staff and Mantle in the corner. 

“We have a few more tricks,” She said, her voice eager as Cala and Eladriel returned her smile, energy sparking between them as Aniah’s pale eyes burned with purpose once more.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> HELLO!!!
> 
> I'm back! I can't stay away!
> 
> I give you my kids! There will be a few surprises here, and some world-building that I really didn't have time to fit in CH. Keyleth didn't really care about technology as much, honestly. It will be a fun mix of arcane and realistic as I drag these kids across the continents. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos always appreciated. Thank you all for being so kind and supportive!


End file.
